The Boy Who Followed Ripley by Patricia Highsmith Read Free Book Online Page B

they be waiting near his car around the corner? Nasty thought. The gates were now locked, so Tom couldn’t go round the corner and see. He went back for Frank, and found him with suitcase in hand, ready to go. Frank left the key in the lock of the little house, its door locked, and they went on to the gates.
    “Stay here for a minute,” Tom said when Frank had unlocked the gates. “I want to look round the corner.”
    Frank lowered his suitcase, and nervously started to come with Tom, but Tom pushed him back, made sure the gate looked closed, and walked toward the corner. He felt rather safe, because the two men certainly weren’t after him.
    His own car was the only one that Tom could see. That was reassuring. People in this neighborhood had garages, and no cars were parked at the curbs. Tom only hoped that the two men had not taken notice of his license plates, because if they had, they might trace his name and address via the police on some made-up grounds of misdemeanor or affront. Tom walked back for Frank, who was still behind the gates. The boy came out when Tom beckoned.
    “I don’t know what to do with this key,” Frank said.
    “Drop it behind the gate,” Tom whispered. Frank had locked the gate again. “We’ll tell her in the note tomorrow.”
    They walked, Frank carrying his suitcase and Tom a small carry- all, round the corner, and got into the car, which seemed a haven to Tom as soon as they had closed its doors. Tom concentrated on getting out of the town, and by a different route. As far as he could see, he was not being followed. In the main part of town, across the old bridge with its four towers, very few streetlights were on, one bar was closing, only two or three cars moved, paying no attention to him. Tom took the big N 5, and made a right turn toward the tiny town of Obelique on a road that would take them finally to Villeperce.
    “Don’t be worried,” Tom said. “I know where I’m going and I don’t think anyone’s following us.”
    Frank seemed sunk in his own thoughts.
    The little world of Mme. Boutin was shattered, Tom thought, and the boy didn’t know where he was now. “I’ll have to tell Heloise you’re staying the night,” Tom said. “But you’ll still be Billy Rollins to her. I’ll tell her you want to do some gardening for us, and—” Tom looked into his car mirror again, but nothing was behind them. “I’ll say you’re looking for a part-time job. Don’t worry.” Tom glanced at Frank. The boy was staring through the windshield and biting his underlip.
    They were home. Tom saw the gentle glow of Belle Ombre’s front court light, which Heloise had left on for him, and he drove through the open gates into the garage at the right of the house. Tom saw that Heloise had parked the red Mercedes-Benz in the right-hand garage space. Tom got out, asked Frank to wait a moment, then he got the big key from under the rhododendrons and locked the front gates.
    By then Frank was standing with suitcase and carryall beside the car. One living room light was on. Tom put on another light which lit the stairs, turned off the living room light, then went out and beckoned for Frank to follow him. They turned left at the top of the stairs, and Tom put on the light in the guest room. Heloise’s door was closed.
    “Make yourself comfortable,” Tom said to Frank. “Closet’s here—” He opened a cream-colored door. “Drawers there—and use my bathroom tonight, because the one here is Heloise’s. I won’t be asleep for another hour probably.”
    “Thank you.” Frank had put his suitcase on the short oak bench at the foot of one of the twin beds.
    Tom went into his room, put on the light and also the light in the bathroom. Then he couldn’t resist going to his front window, whose curtains had been drawn by Mme. Annette, and peering out to see if any car was cruising past or parked. He saw nothing but darkness, except for the area of light under a street lamp to the left. Of